The Door in the Alley

by Adrienne Kress

  “No, you want the key back. I knew this day would come,” said Myrtle. “I knew you lot couldn’t resist giving it another shot, no matter what the cost.”

  “It’s not like that, Myrtle,” said Catherine. Myrtle walked to the edge of the platform and stared down at Catherine, turning her body away from Sebastian and Evie.

  “Other side,” whispered Evie into Sebastian’s ear.

  Sebastian turned to look at her. She gave him a subtle nod and glance, and he turned to see where she was looking. The rope ladder on the other side of the platform peeked through the branches of the tree. Yes. Other side!

  As quickly and quietly as he could, Sebastian ducked under the platform and maneuvered his way around the thick tree trunk. He grabbed the rope ladder behind it and slowly started to climb. When his head popped up above the platform, he ducked instinctively and then slowly raised it again.

  “No? What other reason would you have to come here, then, after you and your offensive team were officially expelled from the society?” Myrtle was saying.

  “It isn’t about the team. It’s about Alistair,” said Catherine.

  “And if Alistair isn’t the team, I don’t know who is.” Myrtle glowered at her.

  Sebastian climbed as stealthily as he could onto the platform. David Copperfield, now sitting on the table, turned and stared at him. Sebastian put a finger to his lips and then realized that the cat had no idea what that meant. It was, after all, a cat. He lowered his hand. He crept toward the table, the familiar flowery teapot sitting in the middle. He reached out, and David Copperfield watched as Sebastian grabbed the teapot and lifted it into the air. He pulled the pot toward him and opened it. It was empty. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It was empty of tea. What it was full of was key.

  Sebastian could hardly believe it. His hands were shaking so much that the teapot also quivered. But he didn’t have time to marvel at the discovery. He quickly pulled out the folded piece of paper, and just as he did, David Copperfield launched himself at him with a hiss. Sebastian dropped the teapot and it smashed into tiny pieces as he attempted to dislodge the cat, whose claws were firmly latched on to his shirt, and part of his flesh as well. Sebastian yelped in pain.

  Of course all this noise made Myrtle turn around to witness the chaos.

  “You!” She glared at him ferociously. “How dare you!”

  Sebastian really couldn’t say much of anything as he fought the cat on the platform, trying in vain to pluck the hissing beast off his chest. His heel caught the edge of the platform and he was suddenly falling backward. Apparently sensing that his own life was in danger, David Copperfield released Sebastian, flew over his head, and landed down a ways on the skylight roof, spinning to a frantic stop on his feet in the predictable cat way. Sebastian, on the other hand, landed flat on his back.

  He took a moment to register the pain from the fall and the headache that now thudded in his brain, and he unfolded the paper. He stared at it. There was a large square drawn on the paper, and within it a series of symbols. Next to each symbol was an equals sign and an explanation of what that symbol meant. There were so many of them, and the piece of paper itself was quite large. He wondered how huge the entire map put together must be. He stared and stared and suddenly remembered the dire situation he was in when a hand grabbed for the paper as if to wrench it from his grasp.

  He held to it fast: No! He wasn’t losing it after just having found it!

  “That’s mine!” said Myrtle.

  “No it’s not,” said Sebastian, struggling to keep hold of the paper while at the same time not ripping it.

  “Well, it isn’t yours!” she answered, and that, at least, was true.

  “It doesn’t belong to any of you. It belongs to us, the Filipendulous Five!” said Catherine, she and Evie joining them on their side of the tree.

  “My grandfather!” said Evie.

  And then, oddly, a fifth voice suddenly joined the conversation:

  “Yet all this is utterly irrelevant, as you are going to give it to me right now.”

  It was enough of a shock that all four of them—oh heck, all five of them, if you include David Copperfield, and I always try to—turned slowly toward the entrance to the rooftop. The two men were standing at the edge of the cobblestone path just before the glass skylight. Both aimed distinctly old-fashioned-looking guns at them, though of course only the melted man spoke.

  Myrtle released the paper at the sight of the men and Sebastian scrambled to his feet, stuffing the key in his pocket.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” demanded Myrtle. She stood defiantly, with her hands on her hips, David Copperfield at her side.

  The melted man laughed. “My name is Mr. K and this is my colleague Mr. I, and we want that key to the map,” he said.

  “You can’t have it,” replied Myrtle.

  There was an explosion as Mr. K fired the gun and the tree beside Myrtle splintered, raining little wooden bits onto their heads.

  Sebastian instinctively ducked and noticed Evie doing the same beside him. Myrtle didn’t flinch.

  “I have a gun,” Mr. K pointed out.

  “Fascinating,” replied Myrtle. Sebastian was amazed at how little she seemed bothered by the information. “I have a button.” She slammed the palm of her hand into a knot of the tree that truly seemed natural and very knotlike. “Hold on to your hats!” she called out, and since no one was wearing a hat, Sebastian took it to be a turn of phrase that meant…

  Oh. The skylight was dropping out from beneath him.

  That was what she meant. They were all about to fall to their deaths.

  Great.

  —

  As Evie felt the floor fall out from beneath her feet, she couldn’t help but watch Mr. I and Mr. K staring at her. She really ought to have been looking down to see where on earth she would land, but the men so frightened her that she had a morbid curiosity about them. Gravity waits for no one, so her view was brief, but what she did see before she began to plummet were two men rushing toward them looking completely shocked. Mr. K fired his gun once more, but the bullet flew easily over their heads as Evie finally looked down.

  The massive trunk of the tree curled this way and that below them and she thought she might possibly grab a passing branch, but as she reached out, another one appeared out of nowhere and smacked her right in the jaw, sending a sharp pain through her body. It forced her to flail out blindly, hoping she’d catch something. Suddenly her right hand connected with a thin branch and she grabbed on. It stopped her fall, though she slid along the branch, feeling a horrible burning sensation as the bark ripped at her skin. Finally she slowed to a stop and reached up with her other hand to get a better grip. This strategy took the weight off the one arm and she hung there, feeling a little useless, trying to get her bearings.

  Her muscles screamed as she strained to keep her grip.

  She glanced up and saw the men staring down through the hole. That was pretty terrifying. Then they were jumping through the hole. That was prettier terrifying.

  Shoot, thought Evie, and just as she did, one of the men fired a gun. That wasn’t an order, that was an expression of frustration! she thought in their general direction, but of course that was silly. No one in the vicinity was a mind reader, after all. She hoped.

  Evie knew she had to get out of there. She hooked her legs over the branch. Then, upside down and slothlike, but with more speed, she pulled herself along the branch toward the fifth-story library balcony. Another gunshot—this one hit the trunk of the tree above her. Evie glanced down—the balcony was right there, and Catherine was dangling dangerously from it, struggling to pull herself up. Evie inched closer and grabbed the balcony railing, heaved herself over it to safety, and rushed to help Catherine. As she did, another shot rang out, but it didn’t sound so near her now. She thought then that maybe the men weren’t actually shooting at her.

  And that was when she realized they were shooting at Sebastian.
/>   After all, he had the key.

  Sebastian stared down at the floor of the library, which seemed to be swaying back and forth below him. Of course, Sebastian knew such a blatant defiance of physics could never occur, and took stock of what had happened. It took him less than that moment to realize that he was the one swaying, not the floor, and he turned to look above him. It was difficult to see exactly what was going on, but he was able to determine that his shirt had caught on something and he was dangling precariously over quite a drop. Whatever he was hooked onto had pretty much saved his life.

  Sebastian looked left and saw a long tan-colored shape. Then he turned to his right and saw the same thing. His mind instantly flipped through images of the library from a few days earlier. And then he saw it. There it was.

  The plane. He was hooked onto the scale model of the Wright brothers’ plane, which was hanging angled slightly downward as if in midflight. If he could reach up, he could pull himself onto the wings and have a relatively sturdy platform to walk on.

  The loud explosion of a gunshot sent slivers of tree raining down on him, and Sebastian realized this was a time for action, not contemplation. He turned to look behind him and saw one of the thin connecting supports between the top and bottom parts of the wing just a foot away from him. Like the bars of a prison cell, these supports ran the length of the wing, and Sebastian knew he could use them to heave himself up. He stretched his left hand behind him and felt around until he finally grasped the support. Then he took a deep breath as he reached up to the back of his shirt. He pulled down hard on the shirt, ripping it free, and he swung forward, holding on tightly with his left hand. As he swung back up he grabbed another support and thanked his lucky stars he was near enough the middle of the plane that he was able to do so. For one thing, it meant the plane was balanced with his weight, and for another, the supports were closer together at this point of the structure. Carefully, but as quickly as he could, he brought himself up onto the wing and crawled over to the pilot’s area. He was breathing heavily and realized that maybe gym class hadn’t been as much of a waste of time as he’d once thought. Certainly he now understood the value of chin-ups.

  Sebastian looked to the left, then to the right. He couldn’t see Evie, Catherine, or Myrtle anywhere. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He couldn’t see above him since the top wing blocked his view, so he had no idea where the scary men were, though he could hear strange sounds of frantic chaos around him, which were utterly meaningless. He stuck his hand in his pocket. The key was still there. He pulled it out and stared at it one more time. Then he hastily put it away, realizing that the key was provoking butterflies in his stomach and a general sensation of excitement.

  Another loud explosion and the plane swayed dangerously. Sebastian lay down on his stomach to steady himself. The plane turned ninety degrees to the right, causing his insides to slosh about dangerously, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of Catherine and Evie. They were below him, standing on the balcony in front of the “Linguistics and the Art of Alphabetizing” section. “Hey!” he called out to them. “I’m up here!”

  Catherine looked around in confusion, but Evie turned and looked right at him.

  “We need to get out of here!” she called back.

  “I know!” replied Sebastian.

  “Get down as fast as you can!”

  “I’m not sure how exactly—” he started to say, as another shot rang out and Evie cried: “Duck!”

  Sebastian ducked for cover, instinctively holding his hands over his head. The plane suddenly lurched, and the lurch was followed by a terrifying crack.

  He heard Evie yell, “Sebastian!” just as he realized what was happening. The plane had broken free of its chain and was now flying solo. Sebastian held on for dear life as the plane started to fall toward the floor far below. This was it; this was his doom. And then he remembered, I’m in a plane.

  Quickly he grabbed the lever in front of him and pulled back. The plane leveled out, and Sebastian sighed with relief only to realize he might not be falling down as steeply, but he was still flying forward and at quite a speed, and, oh, look, a wall.

  Once more Sebastian ducked, right as the plane crashed into the fourth level of the library. Books exploded toward him and piled onto the plane and over his curled-up body. He stayed still, wrapped up in his own little world of darkness, until things got quiet; then he slowly pushed himself upright, a waterfall of books pouring off his head and back, and looked around. The nose of the plane was facing upward on an angle leaning on the balcony of the fourth level, and its tail stuck out, aiming toward the floor. As carefully as he could, and holding his breath, he pulled himself out of the books, sending more of them backward, and with a giant lurch, the nose of the plane tipped upward even more. Slowly, slowly…he stepped onto the wing and the plane slid a couple of inches backward, sending him stumbling forward. He grabbed on to a support and took stock of his new precarious situation. The plane leaned forward a bit and Sebastian took advantage of the moment to jump off the wing and onto the balcony, holding tight to a bookshelf for support. He turned and watched as the plane, now without his body weight, slowly started to slip backward, inch by inch picking up steam, until it finally slid off the balcony and fell to the floor with a thundering crash. Sebastian wanted to peek over the edge to see what had happened, but as he looked across the way to the other side of the library, he saw Mr. I aiming a gun right at him. Instinctively Sebastian held up the first book he could find and covered his head right as the shot was fired. The bullet didn’t pierce the book, but its momentum did force the book right into Sebastian’s face, and he heard a sickening cracking sound as the book met the bridge of his nose.

  Sebastian was stunned by the pain and could taste salty blood in his mouth but didn’t waste a moment feeling sorry for himself. He ran along the balcony to the nearest open door and flew inside. At this point he reached up and tenderly felt his nose. It hurt. A lot. And when he pulled his hand away, it was covered with blood. He looked at the book he was holding—A Guide to Metalworking: How to make everything from streetlamps to book covers. Ah, he noticed for the first time, the cover of this particular book was made of steel. How awfully convenient.

  Sebastian turned around to find an exit and realized to his horror that he was in the human kinesiology room. The one full of bodies without their skin, posed doing various activities. It wasn’t the creepy nature of the room that horrified him, but more the knowledge that there was only one way into and out of that room.

  A dead end with dead people.

  How horribly perfect.

  “We need to get to him!” Evie said to Catherine as she watched Sebastian escape through a doorway. Just when she had felt a flash of relief, everything had gone terribly wrong. As she was helping Catherine climb over the railing, Evie looked up to see Sebastian crash into the side of the library in what she was pretty sure was the Wright brothers’ plane. Her heart had almost burst at the sight of Mr. I shooting Sebastian, but thank goodness for that marvelous book that seemed to be able to stop bullets for some reason. Still, he was in so much danger, and it was all her fault.

  “I agree,” replied Catherine, “but first we need to retrieve the EM-7056.”

  “Right. The EM-7056.” Evie recalled Catherine briefly mentioning it at the café earlier, but at the time they’d been focused on the key. “What exactly is the EM-7056?”

  “It’s the main source of power for the submarine. There is only one reason those fools want the key to the map: to get to the waterfall. And there is only one way to get to the waterfall: our submarine.” Catherine started to jog around the balcony to the nearest exit, and for Evie that meant sprinting to keep up with the woman’s long strides. “What do you know about underwater exploration?” asked Catherine, opening the door and letting Evie pass through into a darkened hallway.

  “Not a lot. All we’ve really learned about underwater in school so far is fish,” rep
lied Evie, panting as she ran. They arrived at the elevator and jumped aboard. Catherine pressed a button and they rode in silence until they hopped off three floors up, and once again Catherine began to jog. Evie wondered if Catherine was disappointed that she didn’t know anything about underwater exploration and that was why she stopped talking, but as they burst into a long, narrow room with wooden lockers running the length of one wall, Evie decided it didn’t really matter.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Underwater exploration is extremely difficult because the deeper you go, the more pressure all that water puts on a submarine,” Catherine explained, making her way along the row of lockers. She arrived at one that had a large piece of paper with bright red writing taped to it. It read: “Do not open. The contents of this locker are extremely dangerous and mildly offensive. Anyone found opening this locker will be immediately expelled from the society. No joke.”

  Catherine tore the paper off the locker and fiddled with its combination lock. Evie took a deep breath and held it as Catherine pulled the latch and flipped open the locker. But there was nothing remotely scary inside. Just a rich-green leather jacket and a bullwhip.

  Catherine took out the jacket and felt around inside it. Her hand slipped into an inner pocket and she sighed with relief. Turning to Evie, she said with a smile, “It’s still here.”

  “What is?”

  Catherine stared at her for a moment and then said slowly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world: “My part of the map.” And she withdrew a piece of parchment.

  Evie stared at it in wonder. She’d forgotten that each of the Filipendulous Five had a piece of the map. She had been so preoccupied with the key. “Can I look at it?” she asked.

  Catherine shook her head and put the map back into the pocket. “Not now. Later. When there’s time.” She slipped on the jacket and reached into the locker, pulling out the whip. Then she slammed the locker shut and turned to Evie, looking rather impressive now.